


lumière, darling

by Wankerville



Series: strawberry milk fic [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, it's just h/l's life after they graduate uni, warnings: past abuse/rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wankerville/pseuds/Wankerville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>tumblr: wankerville<br/>snapchat: wankerville (go on adventures with me thru mundane life lmao)</p><p>pls read the end note of this fic :-)</p>
    </blockquote>





	lumière, darling

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: wankerville  
> snapchat: wankerville (go on adventures with me thru mundane life lmao)
> 
> pls read the end note of this fic :-)

Louis always thought it was about finding that person who could say they love you and make you feel like nothing else has ever been more true.

It isn't.

_(It’s about finding that person who can make you feel like a person. It’s about that inexplicable connection between your heart and your mind and that feeling you get when your eyes meet theirs and they smile at you._

_It always has something to do with the eyes. The eyes, but evermore their eyes - because they don’t struggle to understand anything you do, instead, they already understand, sometimes, even without quite knowing yet. It’s about looking into each other’s eyes and just getting it right. There's a gentleness, a tenderness; it floats around in each sweet, sweet exchange of glances. Understanding each set of thoughts without actually knowing, and then accepting whatever follows. That’s the beauty of it.)_

Louis and Zayn graduate the next year from University with their different degrees. It came quick, swept them out from under their feet. One minute they’re getting student refunds and blowing it on ridiculous things, dicking around on their skateboards and enjoying their boyfriends, and the next they’re stepping off campus without much of a reason to ever come back. It almost feels like they’re finally evolving into an official ‘adult;’ with no more classes, no more textbooks, and no more glorious, glorious student refunds. _Fuck._

Graduation day is a flurry of tears and kisses, mums and way too many congratulations. They’re trapped in their gowns and hats, and Zayn is so shy and humble, smiling at his family and at Liam and _his_  family. Louis on the other hand is fake yawning, rolling his eyes, and sticking his tongue out at his little sisters despite Harry and Jay’s scowling faces.

There are plenty of photos taken, one of Louis’ favourite ones costing him a twenty. But now he has this beautiful photo of Zayn in his gown and cap, and Liam on his knees underneath it. They refused to take the photo in front of their parents, but Louis already has plans to blow it up, frame it, and send it to their families for Christmas. Sentimental value and all.

(His real favourite photo, though, priceless, unexpected.

It was just him messing around with his mum’s camera, complaining about how he's ready to go out for dinner already and get the day over with. But all the families still chat and chat, busy being busy and Louis just looks like a child in a graduation costume.

So, his hip juts out, there’s a pout on his lips, and he is trying to figure out when cameras got so... complicated. But then Harry’s on the screen from the new angle Louis holds the lens at, and -

He’s lying in the green grass atop the hill where the graduation initially took place, knees bent. He’s in a light blue button down, except only the bottom three are actually buttoned up. His dark bow tie is tied around his wrist instead of his neck, his sleeves rolled up, and his black skinny jeans are cuffed at the bottom - and like, _shit,_  does that make Louis hot and warm and fucking _fond_.

Harry’s feet are bare, toes curling into the grass, his pretty pink toe nails a soft contrast to the vibrant green. Then there is Daisy. Daisy who has Harry’s head in her lap, fingers in his curly hair that is mixed with daisies that she keeps tucking in the warm brown locks of his hair, her head is leaning over his. She is giggling loudly, teeth showing and a little dimple up by her nose, and Harry has his lips puckered in a kissy smile. Daisy keeps giggling and smiling and rubbing her nose against Harry’s as she tucks more flowers in his hair.

And Louis’ never felt so transparent.

Transparent because around them are hundreds of people, and dozens of families, and yet he is capturing such a tender and intimate moment, one that is truly sweet and private and now _his_  too.

(It is the first time he ever pictured having his own family with Harry, coming some hour or so after graduating from University.)

Behind Harry and Louis’ backs, Anne and Jay planned a small holiday trip to Paris as a congratulations to Louis for graduating. They spent the year putting back extra money, and over dinner they surprise the boys with two train tickets, a hotel reservation, two different restaurant reservations, and then an envelope of splurging money along with a guide of tourist attractions and favourites.

So one minute Louis’ in a cap and gown, and the next he’s in a brand new suit his mum bought him, sitting in a fancy underground restaurant, Harry sitting across from him in his own new suit. Candlelight flickers in his eyes and Louis kind of falls in love again. Harry makes him do that a lot.

(They drink too much wine, have a little too much sex, and get awful sunburns from their visit to Le Havre beach.)

Since Louis is no longer a student at the college, special campus rules prohibit him to stay in one of the cheap campus marketed flats, even if his boyfriend _is_  still a student. Which _bullshit_.

Zayn got in luck. Upon graduating, he already had a manager take him under his arm and set him up a place in a grandiose art museum for talented, young artists. Upon that, he was offered, at half price, one of the somewhat immaculate flats that were stacked upon the museum. So Liam and him were all goddamn set.

Louis wasn’t. Louis was given the preschool position he was promised, but the pay was nearly triple _less_  of what a year two, or even a year _one_  teacher position would pay, not to mention, the lack of housing.

So really, their new flat is much smaller. They’re not allowed to paint, or hang things with nails, or even have a pet, even if it is a fish.

(They lost their little fish a few months prior, but _still._ )

The water in their new apartment goes cold a little too fast, the walls are ridiculously thin, and the kitchen, living room, and dining room are all one room. A door on the left leads to their bathroom, a door to the right, their bedroom.

So the paint chips off the wall, and they’re not even allowed to re-paint the original colour. They have to compromise and load many of their belongings in storage, and most of their meals consist of peanut butter and crackers and whatever Harry brings home from the university. It's okay, though.

Harry leaves his job at the library and begins a job tutoring at the university. He doesn’t make nearly enough to live on monthly, but weekly he brings in a small check that can pay for groceries and small necessities, and Louis’ monthly check pays for the rent and any other bills.

Louis works at the preschool all day, tricking kids into taking their naps, teaching them how to tie their shoes, and he even kicks in with a head start on the alphabet and numbers. It's a blast of a job, dealing with snobby kids, and strange kids, and lovely little kids, and though the pay is shit, he’s _happy_.

(Even happier when he comes home to his shit flat and pretty boyfriend.)

It’s about the end of January when they get in their first real fight.

It’s the end of January, they’re both so stressed, and the night ends with Louis slamming the door to their flat, tears burning in his eyes. He goes to Liam and Zayn’s place, sobs racking up in his chest as he tells Zayn about how they’re two months behind in rent, and have no food, and they’re a struggling mess. He ignores every noise his phone makes indicating Harry trying to get in contact with him and falls asleep on his mates’ couch with tear tracks down his cheeks and swollen-closed eyes.

(Once Zayn is sure Louis is asleep, he calls Harry and tells him he’s okay.)

When Louis returns the next day, it’s with his ego crushed in the fist he makes when he knocks on the door to their flat. As soon as he sees Harry’s bloodshot eyes, he lets out a sob. Harry is holding him immediately, his arms wrapping around him, his own tears slipping down his cheeks and down Louis’ neck.

They both look like utter shit, and they feel that way even more so. And when Louis has Harry pressed into the mattress later that day he says just that, making Harry snort, retorting with a sarcastic, “Could say the same for you, _daddy_.”

In the midst of all the money issues and a midnight conversation discussing ways they can try and be more cash-savvy, Harry brings up the option of stopping his treatment program, knowing it is where a majority of their money is going.

Louis denies the offer as if Harry even _mentioning_ it is the most ridiculous idea he has ever heard. Denies it with a quick and firm ‘ _absolutely not_ ,’ that makes tears form in Harry’s eyes, little trembled apologies spilling from his lips as if it’s the only thing he can think to say to make everything okay again.

Louis holds him, whispers to him that he has absolutely no reason to be sorry. He takes his hands, plays with his fingertips gently. Hushed reminders that he is more important than warm water and having a packed fridge.

(Even strawberry milk becomes a special occurrence in their flat.)

 _(When you truly love someone, it should be easy. Yes, it's going to get hard, maybe painfully so in specific times, but loving should_ never _be hard. It must be this vast, soul-consuming, yet gloriously effortless simplicity. It must feel like there is more of a connection between the two of you than just the two of you._

_They reach for your hand and instantaneously reaching out feels more like some powerful mutuality.)_

When Harry graduates, they ask that instead of taking another holiday, they would really like to just have the extra money to help out with rent and bills. It keeps their two months of summer completely covered in rent, which allows them to put money back for rainy days and have a bit of splurging money so their summer isn’t a broke fest.

Over the summer, both Harry and Louis work shifts with Niall (who is in his last year of uni before transferring to a law school) at the pizza shop. After their shifts there, they head off to their second jobs, trying to rack up enough money to help them through the winter months. They return home to each other sometime between 6:30 and 7:00, too tired to even fuck.

It’s the summer of saving money, cuddling on the couch, and expertising the quick handjob.

The next year is even worse than the first.

Louis still hasn’t slipped into the proper teaching job he has wanted - and needed more than ever - leaving his income entirely way too small for Harry and his needs.

Then there is Harry. Harry who still works two jobs, neither even being of something he enjoys, and coming home to Louis completely exhausted. Louis has never seen Harry so worn down and he has also never been so worried for the sake of his boy.

 

The conversation about the little place he wanted to buy over by the school Louis works at finally takes place.

“I know you’re not happy like this, Haz.”

“Louis, right now we just need to worry about getting b-”

“We are always gonna be just getting by! Just take a loan out and get the damn place, at least then this struggle will be worth it, Harry!”

Harry doesn’t do it.

 

It is after their second fight over money that Louis looks into the shop for Harry, perhaps without Harry knowing.

In general terms, it’s cheap. In their terms, it’s expensive. But, the reason the cost is higher than just a normal shop, but also way cheaper in terms of other things, is because above the initial bakery is a two bedroom, one kitchen (separate from the one living room) one living room, two bathrooms, and a laundry room, _flat._

Louis takes an extended lunch break the next week at work, and takes out the loan that he got okay-ed by the bank for.

 

Another week later, he has Harry blindfolded, walking him through the streets of their city to their new home. Harry is smiling unsurely, constantly questioning what Louis has done but the only answer Louis gives is a ‘you’ll see.’

When they get there, Louis quietly takes the keys from his pocket and slips them into the door. He wraps Harry’s hand around the key, takes his other hand and puts it on top of the doorknob.

“Open,” he whispers.

Harry does, and as soon as the vintage shopkeeper bell rings, he freezes.

“Lou?” he breathes.

"Haz."

(Harry is kissing Louis before Louis’ trembling fingers have even had the chance to untie the cloth around Harry's eyes.)

 

All the dining furniture is left over be the previous owners, even a few stray baking utensils are still hanging in their spots or are on the counter. There is still a broom in the corner, and oven mitts on the counter, and Harry’s eyes are so glassy Louis wonders if he can even see it all.

Louis went and checked the shop out earlier in the week, setting a few things up - like candles, since he hasn’t called and set up the power yet for the building.

Harry couldn’t be happier, though. He is all smiles and biting his lip, running his fingertips across the bumps and ridges of the tables and chairs and counters and stove. He quietly murmurs what he pictures, how he wants the shop to look; to the regular customers he can imagine having, to the way he wants to decorate during holidays. Louis has never felt so proud, so happy, so - _good_.

What makes it even better, though, is that when Harry asks about the door in the back that is locked, Louis can tell Harry to put the key inside of it as well, and open the door. It opens up to a staircase, at the side before reaching the first step, a small coat closet.

They make their way up the staircase, hand in hand, Louis behind Harry, and open the next door at the top, which is already unlocked. Harry bites his lip as he opens the door, and the living room is what he finds first.

There is a round rug left behind in the middle of the floor and also an old bookcase against the wall. The flooring is wood, a bit scratched and old looking, but tasteful nonetheless. Harry is speechless as he steps inside, the heels of his boots making a light thud with every step.

He makes his way to their own little kitchen, an old rounded refrigerator in a little section cut-out between the stove and counter space, white cabinets hooked on the walls. There is a big empty space to the right for a table, two wooden chairs that match the ones downstairs stacked against the wall.

Harry’s favourite part is the small, square window nook. It has a small padding already there, with a few leftover pillows. The walls of the nook are blank so you can lean against them, but a bit higher up is a small, in-built book case. The window is an old, vintage latch window, and if you pull the latch up, the two separate window doors swing out, allowing you to climb out onto the roof.

They quietly look through the rest of the flat, from the smaller bedroom with another window nook, to the bathrooms that are pink-tiled with claw foot bathtubs.

Then they make it to their bedroom.

Louis had taken one of their mattresses out of storage and set it up in their new bedroom, albeit on the floor, along with sheets and duvets. Surrounding the mattress on the floor, are unlit candles, allowing for light when it gets dark out. Their bedroom is the bigger of the two, with their own bathroom and a long closet, but instead of a window nook, they have two simple windows, still in the vintage, swing-out, fashion.

That night, Harry presses Louis into the mattress and kisses his thank you into Louis’ skin. He mouths at his neck, licking and sucking at his chest, stomach, soft thighs spread before him. He opens Louis up slowly, careful fingers, and careful touches, and gentle kisses, hot panting and sweet fucking. Everything is slow and hazy, their moans echoing in the emptiness of their new home.

Later, when they’re wrapped in their duvets, candles nearly burnt out, Harry finally asks how much the loan is, because he knows it was a loan. When Louis tells him, he chews his lip in guilt until Louis brushes his teeth away from the bottom plush with his thumb, promising him it’s okay.

 

(“This struggle, and this debt, and us eating cup of noodles every day for a year - it’s all worth it for you, Harry. If you’re not happy, then neither am I.”)

 

They begin to move in the following weekend, and by the end of the month when the contract is up for their old flat, they’re completely out of their old dump and fully moved in.

Since the lot was already previously owned, and the people weren’t looking for bursts of money, but just looking to sell it, they no longer have to pay for rent. They also no longer have to pay for a storage unit since they have extra space to store all the stuff they learned to live without. There is a lot they do have to pay for, though, like installment, a license, supplies, electricity and heating and water.

Not only that, but they have to make payments toward the loan Louis took out to get the place, and not only _that_ , but they still have a bit to pay off on their student loans. They’re far from the top still, but they’ve made the bottom a better place.

 

Louis ends up having to get another job, though. He goes to the preschool at 7:30 a.m., and he gets back between 8:00 and 9:00 p.m. from his second job which is at Bath and Body Works.

He is entirely exhausted, drained and ready to sleep for a year, but then he comes back to their new home and sees everything Harry has accomplished in the bakery and in their home, anything and everything, from painting to furniture; fixing internal and external problems.

Harry still works his other job, too, but when he gets off at 2:00, he spends the rest of his time getting the bakery ready for use. He always makes sure to have dinner ready for Louis when he gets home, though, and even if it is a cheap meal, he always tries to make it as 6-star gourmet as he can.

Whilst Louis eats, he always starts him up a warm, bubbly bath.

(That’s a thing, there is no longer bottles of body soap lining the walls. It is down to just three bottles, enough for a selection in scents, and it isn’t because of their lack of money, but because from the first day of treatment, and every meeting since, Harry had dwindled down the amount he needed to be surrounded by for comfort.)

He always sits down in the bath first, waits for Louis to undress and sit down between his legs. If he’s lucky, Louis will have snatched a bath bomb to add to their bath. Harry always washes Louis’ hair; scratches his scalp, massages his neck down to his shoulders, washes over his chest, presses kisses to his wet skin. Most of the time, Louis ends up falling asleep curled against Harry’s chest. Harry never minds, though. He adds warm water to the bath, gently washes the hot water over Louis until it runs cold, and then he wakes him with a hushed murmur.

Louis always pouts, weakly standing up and then staying standing to let Harry know he wants him to dry him off. He’s tired and a bit of a baby, but Harry loves him, and he secretly loves taking care of Louis. He dries him off, kisses his nose, just like Louis has done for him in the past, and tucks him into bed.

Zayn, Liam, and Niall always stop by to help Harry with fixing the bakery up, or to even just keep him company during the day. Zayn usually hangs out with him the most since he doesn’t go to uni anymore. He helps with a lot of the painting and detailed designs, even practises his glass art for the shop. Niall and Liam always help as much as they can, but they usually just stop by to study and offer conversation.

 

It is during this time that they fight the most.

 

They’re exhausted, stressed to the limits, and there is so little room for them to just _be_ together. They can’t go on dates, fuck, have a proper cuddle, or even just watch the sodding _tv_ together.

Louis tries so hard not to burst, not to flame with anger and annoyance and frustration, but _god_ , it’s _hard_. Something as simple as stubbing his toe can piss him off for the rest of the day and send him into a fit. He knows it isn’t good, and he knows he’s being a prick, and he knows he’s working himself too much and needs to give himself some personal time too.

(He knows that Harry is still going through treatment, still recovering from a lot of disgusting things, and even though he is under a lot of stress himself, it still makes his skin crawl when he goes to bed alone, knowing Harry won’t be following.

The thing is, though, Louis always wakes up in the middle of the night, no matter how hard he worked his arse off the day prior, because an empty bed is never right.

Wrapping the duvet around his shoulders, he always goes out into the living room where Harry is on the couch. Sometimes he’s mindlessly watching the TV on mute, sometimes he just lying awake, and on a few occasions, Louis has found him genuinely asleep.

He lays down on top of him, carefully placing his body on top of Harry’s, wrapping around him, nuzzling his nose into his neck with a lump in his throat. He will sigh, never quite being able to meet Harry’s eyes, and apologise softly, toying with the edges of the duvet.

Harry holds Louis close to his chest, tears burning his eyes, and he apologises for Louis having to work so much for so little in return.

Louis hates it, because even though it doesn’t feel as expressed, Harry is all he ever wants to have - always enough in return.

Things are just rough.

_(It’s about choosing that person during your hardest, most excruciating times; to pick them over and over whilst drowning in anything that can drown you, to know that if you’re going down, you only ever want to have them by your side._

_It’s about sharing those moments. The ace ones, and the amiss ones, and the rainy day ones._

_It is choosing them in the most difficult of times, and also the most ordinarily humane ones. Turning these thick, thespian moments into ones of jokes and laughter, not to change the subject despite it all, because that’s what easy things are, taking the bad and dumping in your most human emotions. Going through it with your hands laced together, no direction for your emotions.)_

They have to take out another loan.

It’s a pound of stress added to the cup that’s already overflowing with it, but taking out the loan is buying the necessary equipment and baking supplies needed to get the shop up and running and making money. They don’t have a choice, really.

Around this time, is also when the big break comes in for Louis.

He is with his preschoolers finger-painting. So far he has seen some dogs, some families, some deformed rocks, and his favourite, the little girl who is making a polka-dot flower.

He is smiling and laughing, going around and asking the kids to add their handprint to the large canvas so he can write their name below each one. Despite the tiredness that has planted itself in his bones, he can never deny that overwhelming feeling children give him, making him feel so young and careless and free.

So when he gets called down to the district offices, it is with paint in his hair and smeared across his face and arms. He figures it’s nothing big, probably a performance review since it’s coming up on the end of the year.

Then he sees one of the district council members, in a suit and tie, spiffed up and so important looking.

He’s fucked, is all he can think.

When he’s called into the office, he tries to fix himself up a bit, but he’s also trying to plan his speech to Harry about how he got fired, and _honestly_ , he doesn’t even realise that tears have welled in his nervously tired eyes until the man chuckles under his breath.

“The preschoolers really beating ya’ up, eh?”

Louis blinks, heart thumping, and he nods unsurely.

The man laughs again, “I see your nervous Mr. Tomlinson,” he says, “no need to be, though. I’m sure you know you’re one of our best when it comes to communicating with the kids here,” he pauses, looking through files, “no need to spoil the award, but you were voted favourite teacher, almost unanimously.”

Louis blinks. “Oh, um.”

The man finds the documents he’s looking for and sets them on the desk, finally looking up to meet Louis’ eyes, “Mr. Tomlinson, I can tell you’re quite nervous, so I’ll just get to it,” the man clears his throat, opening the folder, “next school year we are having a po-”

Louis feels tears stream down his cheeks and a grin spread over his face, and he is pretty sure he has freaked one of the main district members out. But he can’t help it, because he _finally_ is moving up to a higher position, one that pays so much more money, and he just- he really hasn’t felt so _overjoyed_  in so long.

When he gets back to his classroom, letting the assistant that came by to watch his kids know that she can leave, he calls his second job and tells them that he won’t be able to make it in tonight.

He stops by the grocer between the elementary school and the bakery, and picks up a bottle of wine with a bundle of red roses.

Harry is on a step ladder hanging up chalk boards when Louis walks in. His shirt is stretched high, sweats slipping low, and the strings of a sexy little thong is on full display. When Harry turns his head over his shoulder and sees it’s him, he smiles, slightly confused by the flowers and wine and by Louis being home so _early_.

“Is it an anniversary of something I forgot?”

Louis smirks, setting the items down on one of the random tables and then walking to Harry. He grabs him by the hips, Harry's little squeak making his smirk only grow, and the boy’s legs immediately wrap around Louis’ waist.

All Louis does is turn them around, setting Harry down on the white countertop. He presses his mouth to Harry’s before the boy can get a word out, kissing him hard and filthy, only pulling back when he hears Harry squeak again.

Louis grins, his nose scrunching up as he squeezes Harry’s thighs.

“We are having sex tonight.”

Harry’s eyes widen excitedly, moan slipping through his lips as he tangles his fingers in Louis’ paint covered hair. “ _Finally_ ,” he breathes, before crushing their lips together.

So they fuck. Louis fucks Harry, and Harry rides Louis, and Harry fucks Louis, and Harry calls Louis ‘daddy,’ and every ounce of stress has literally come out of them.

Harry opens the bakery the afternoon Louis’ preschool kids get out for the summer. Louis took the night off from his second job to be there during the opening, and _jesus_ , it’s packed. There’s a line out the door, loud chatter bursting from the inside, and Louis’ heart swells with so much pride.

Louis has to squeeze his way up to the front, getting some nasty glares from people who think he is cutting in line when all he is trying to do is get to his boyfriend.

Harry is smiling cheekily, handing out different drinks and treats from the display cases, doing as much as he can by himself. He spent the entire morning up until the opening baking multiple amounts of each item just to be safe, and now that Louis is here to help the customers get what they ordered, it goes by much faster.

Everyone gives out sweet compliments, wide eyed as they try different things and give thumbs up. Harry is flushed and happy and laughing so loud it bounces off the walls. Louis has never felt so happy.

A lot of Louis’ students show up with their mums, and they giggle happily when they see Louis with Harry. It makes Harry feel proud and he kisses Louis’ cheek and gives all the little kids free cake pops with extra sprinkles in the colour of their choice.

So the Pink Milk Cafe is officially in business.

The very next day, Harry wakes up early to pre-bake before he opens up the bakery again at 9:00. Ten minutes before that time, people are already waiting outside, so he opens the doors early, asking if anyone wants anything specially made fresh.

An hour later, Louis wakes up and comes downstairs, the small bakery packed. He’s in his sweats and t-shirt, bed head and a cup of tea in hands. He kisses Harry on the cheek whilst he is getting change for a customer, making the girl ‘aw.’

Louis works the first few weeks into the summer at the bakery, and then his second job at Bath and Body Works, but then they realise that the bakery is bringing in quite a lot of money and they’re not dying out, already having regular customers due to the placing of the bakery and the obviously great service.

So he quits.

He quits and takes on the full time task of helping Harry. He learns how Harry makes his weird sandwiches, and his even weirder pastries, and he even learns how to properly whisk. His favourite part, though, is when he learns how to use the fancy coffee and tea machine.

Their summer goes by in a flash of flour fights, endless amounts of teasing and kisses, and people complimenting them not only on how good everything tastes, but on how cute they are together.

 

When Louis goes back to work, except this time as a year one primary teacher, Harry invites Niall, Jesy, and Perrie to work with him. The shifts allow Harry to bake throughout the day, which allows for more items to be put on the menu.

His favourite part of shifts, though, is being able to go see Louis at work. Bringing not only him treats, but his itty bitty students treats too.

Having shifts and ‘employees’ does bring down the amount of money the bakery brings in that doesn't go towards buying more supplies for the bakery, but it balances perfectly with Louis’ new income.

Speaking of income, with their new found money they are able to finally start making larger payments towards the loans they took out, and by Christmas time, though their loans aren't paid off, they’ve discussed payment plans with the bank, and they’re scheduled to have them, along with the rest of their student loans, paid off in a low of three years and a max of five.

Holiday season is their silently-agreed favourite time of the year. Their business nearly triples, due to people needing party platters or specially designed cakes and pies, and so they get to decorate the bakery with holiday lights and tinsel, a big Christmas tree in the corner of the bakery.

(They also have their own Christmas tree up in their living room, not to mention a mistletoe in every room because Louis couldn’t resist.)

Due to the bakery doing so well, and Louis making enough money for their easygoing life, they get to close the bakery for a week during Christmas, and both of their families come down for a visit during that time.

They set their bedroom and the extra one up for their parents, and then they set out extra mattresses in the living room for themselves, Gemma and Lottie, and the twins.

Gemma and Lottie have been best friends since they first met, despite the age difference. Lottie chose a college near where Gemma lived, and now they live together in a cosy little home. Gemma has her boyfriend, and Lottie has a few off and on things, and it’s almost like both of the families have just merged into one already.

They push all the little tables downstairs together for Christmas dinner, plugging in the interior Christmas lights that string around the cafe for a pretty, dim lighting that makes the night even more beautiful. Jay and Anne don’t allow Harry or Louis in the kitchen at all, claiming they cook too much and this is for them.

They hang out with the twins. The twins that are now 8 nearing 9 years old. Phoebe is as mischievous as ever, and Daisy as sweet, but they both meet in the middle when it comes to sass.

They all exchange gifts, but by far the best gift given is the gift Daisy gives Harry, which is a framed photo of him and her on Louis’ graduation day.

Everyone has grown so much in the years since that day.

It’s around the one year anniversary of the Pink Milk cafe, that Harry’s treatment is done.

He had three different doctors at the Centre, different meetings throughout the week and at different times. Honestly, he could probably fill both their bathtubs with all the city bus tickets he had to buy over the years he had been going.

There was never a set time in how long Harry would have to be doing his treatment, though, it was always more of a ‘go until you’re okay again’ type of thing.

The problem with Harry was breaking down a lot of the walls he had built since that time and really restructuring a lot of the ways he thinks to get him in the healthiest mental position possible for the amount of trauma he went through.

So it was a very step-by-step process, and when steps are involved, there is always room for step backs, which happened most frequently in the first year. Overall though, the doctors told Louis that once Harry got comfortable around them and was able to really open up, it was easy to help him. He was cooperative, and loving, and definitely the most kind-hearted patient they had had in a very long time.

Even though they couldn’t erase what happened to him, they helped him recover from it, and they helped him leave it in the past rather than having those fears and struggles rob his present and future.

So they let him go. They told him to call if he ever needed anything, gave him genuine, heart-aching hugs, and let him go.

 

There’s a night. Harry is sitting in the kitchen window nook, one leg bent under his bum and the other pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around and chin placed on his knee. The window is pushed open, warm summer breeze filtering in and the stars bright and on display in the navy blue sky. Louis is down in the bakery in a pair of boxers and one of Harry’s t-shirts, pinning up his students’ artwork that they let him keep from the school year.

Harry is tapping one of his fingers nervously against his forearm, wrapped up around himself when Louis comes back upstairs. Louis furrows his eyebrows, setting his folder down on the kitchen table and decidedly curling up across from Harry. It’s silent, a tug on the rope that binds them together.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. He moves his foot an inch, his toes bumping into Harry’s foot as a subtle, physical reassurance.

Harry shrugs, inhaling deeply. He turns his head so it is lying in his arms that are crossed over his knee, watching Louis with searchful eyes.

Louis smiles at him, reaching over and pushing his curls from his forehead. “Stars are nice tonight, huh?”

Harry snorts with a tiny smile. “You’re not even looking at 'em.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Then they don’t look nice?”

“No, they do,” he reassures with a smirk, turning his head to look back up at them.

Louis smiles at Harry, nodding, “Then what’s on your mind, stud?”

Harry bites his lip, eyes still on the stars but not really focusing. He’s silent, ultimately in thought, and Louis watches patiently.

When Harry looks back to him, his eyes big and nervous, still searching, and Louis’ not really sure what to say, but he's worried.

“Har-”

“Lou,” Harry interrupts with a shaky voice, shifting his body so he’s facing Louis, and taking his hands in his own, “will you marry me?”

Louis blinks, heart thumping in his chest.  “H- _Harry_?”

Harry bites his lip, letting go of Louis’ hand to reach into the pocket of his sweats, pulling out a small container. His fingers are trembling as he opens it, eyes locking anxiously with Louis’ as he asks again. “Will- will you marry me?”

Louis doesn’t even notice the tears that are welling in his eyes. His eyes that are looking into Harry’s, and then at the golden ring in the little velvet box.

He lets out a gross sob, nodding fervently. “Y-yeah, of cours-” his own throat cuts off, eyes trained on the beautiful gold band, “of _course_ , you idiot.”

Harry laughs breathlessly, tears in his own eyes as he tries to get the ring out of the box, but he can’t stop shaking. And of _course_ Louis was going to say yes, Harry knew he would, but it’s just- it’s just the thing - it’s _Louis_.

When Harry finally does manage to get it out, he takes Louis’ hand in his own, his fingernails a pale pink, looking exquisite holding the golden band, and he slips it onto Louis’ ring finger with ease.

Then Louis’ kissing Harry hard, pushing Harry against the wall of the nook and crawling between his bent knees.

“I can’t believe you asked first,” he mumbles against Harry’s lips, pressing their mouths together again and again. His hands are on Harry’s face, cradling it carefully as he kisses him so fully.

“What do you mean?” Harry breathes when he gets the chance, eyes glassy and wide and wonderful.

Louis’ eyes move from Harry’s lips to Harry’s eyes, then to the ring on his finger that is pressed against Harry’s cheek, his heart leaping. He rubs his fingers down Harry’s cheeks, over his cherry lips, glancing back up to Harry’s eyes. “Stay here,” he murmurs.

Louis runs to their bedroom, digging around in his sock drawer for the wool ones in the back where he stuffed the little black box. When he finds it, he quickly empties it from the sock, not bothering to shut the drawer as he makes his way back to Harry.

Harry is still pressed to the wall of the nook, one of his knees is bent up, and the other is hanging off the ledge, pressed to the kitchen floor, spread so Louis can crawl back between them.

“Oh,” he murmurs when he sees the box, “ _oh_.”

Louis opens it quickly, not nearly as nervous as he would of been, exposing a similar gold band that he pulls out.

“Give me your hand,” he whispers, biting his lip.

Harry nods, his eyes shining in awe as he gives Louis his hand and feels the metal slip into place like it’s meant to be there forever.

Their summer is spent in preparation. They begin to order wedding catalogues, looking through flower bouquets, to wedding invitation cards, to simple wedding favours.

They both decide they want a low-key wedding, simple and nothing outrageous. They make the decision to cater their own wedding, providing all the snacks, drinks, and the wedding meal, as well as their own wedding cake.

Though Harry does most of the baking and cooking, when it comes to the wedding cake, they frost it together. It’s a typical wedding cake in style- round, the one on the bottom the biggest circle, and then there are two more stacked upon it, getting smaller in width. It’s a chocolate cake, thick cream cheese and strawberry filling.

They frost it in white chocolate, giving it the typical wedding colour, and then, with pink frosting markers, they write messages to each other, little: ‘i love you,’ and ‘im going to suck your dick after this,’ and ‘why am i even marrying you?’

Zayn volunteers to photograph the wedding for him, since he had to take a course in photography whilst he was in uni, and Niall volunteers to be the drunk guy who gives the embarrassing speech.

Lottie and Gemma are the bridesmaids, and Zayn, Liam, and Niall are the groomsmen. Daisy and Phoebe are nominated to be the flower girls, and then they both choose their mums to be their maids of honour, and also the persons to walk them down the aisle.

Their wedding takes place at the little field they stopped at so many summers ago on their guys’ holiday. All it takes is a bit of bribery with some wedding cake to get the owners of the land to give an obvious automatic yes.

The wedding itself is very small, only inviting the people who they love and care most for. Which is just their families, Niall, Zayn, and Liam’s families, and then Jesy and Perrie. They choose pink, gold, and white as their colours, and their flowers are daisies and dandelions (though they specially requested a mix of both white and pink daisies.)

They have a few rounded offset rows of white chairs, pink ribbons tied to the left, bottom side of each one. The arbour is staged in the centre of the aisle, traditionally so, and is painted a pale pink with white daisy chains wrapped around it.

Niall is the first one down the aisle, following him is Gemma, then Liam, Lottie, and after Zayn has taken photos of all of them walking down the aisle, he hands the camera to Liam, who photographs Zayn making his way down the aisle as a groomsman. After them, Jay and Louis walk down. Jay is in a simple pink gown, holding her son’s hand that still has the golden band on it, because both he and Harry refused to take them off.

The thing is, Louis and Harry both decided they didn't want to be dressed fancily for their wedding, matching up with the un-lavishness of the wedding itself. So Louis is in black skinny jeans, of course cuffed at the ankle, with dark brown brogues. He is in a white, cotton t-shirt, a rounded neck the dips down to expose collarbones and a bit of chest, and over it, is a light grey blazer, buttoned once in the middle. In the breast pocket, sits a pink piece of paper with his vows on it.

Next, Phoebe and Daisy come down the aisle, throwing hand picked daisies as the alternative. The crowd aws at them, watching them walk down the makeshift aisle. Phoebe, of course, sticks her tongue out at her brother, making the crowd laugh as she takes her place next to their mum, Lottie, and Gemma.

Then, Zayn presses play on his phone, which is wirelessly connected to speakers set behind the Arbor. A soft piano tune comes on, not the traditional ‘here comes the bride,’ though, instead they choose to have ' _[Love Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSvxE5eIUIQ)' _ by Yiruma, play.

As soon as Louis sees Harry begin to walk down the aisle, his mother on his arm, the tears start. They didn’t keep from seeing each other at the beginning of their wedding, in fact, they helped each other get dressed and rode in the car together. Before the actual wedding even started, Louis made a flower crown out of daisy’s and placed it on Harry's head (and it is still there, mixed in with his curls), but the thing is, Harry is walking down the _aisle_  this time. He is walking down the aisle, and his gold band catches sunlight and shines, and the overwhelming sensation really starts to hit. This is the rest of their lives. _Together_.

Anne hands Harry off with a watery smile, giving Louis a mock-stern look that makes Niall snort.

When they take each other’s hand, Louis’ nails are painted green, and Harry’s blue.

 

[“Lou, our love isn’t profound, it isn’t abstract, or complicated beyond belief. If anything, it is us, and us- us is beautiful.

If someone were to ask what ‘us’ is, I think I would tell them ‘it’s announcing this is your favourite song when it comes on the radio, and him turning it up so he can listen carefully.'

This- us- this connection between us, it’s enigmatic- it’s unreal. Not profound, but just really, really paradoxical- almost like a secret that only you and me have.

It’s not something intricate in the way we work. We just do. We laugh together, and get bored together, and go to dentist appointments together- and, and somehow- those are the most magical moments.

Because that’s us- that’s us- and we are happening- and that’s what we do best. We happen.

And Louis, I wanna keep happening with you until happening isn’t even a word anymore.”

“Harry, loving you, has been the most devastatingly real thing I have ever done.

And experiencing you hasn’t only been in the terms of us understanding and knowing and- and loving. It’s been in the terms of feeling everything, the good and the not good, there with you in every moment. It has always been in the moment- and-

And I’m sure I could live without you, but god knows I’d prefer never to have to experience that- because you- you’ve shown me something so beautiful, I swear I could never feel this with someone else- and- I’ve never believed in miracles, but jesus christ, Harry Styles, you taking my last name is the greatest blessing, the most miraculous honour.

And- and I’m looking at you- and trembling. Because you and me, we’ve never been about all these well thought-out sentences. You and me, and-and understanding, it’s merely always been about seeing each other.

And- I’m seeing you now- fuck- I’m seeing you now- and I just want to marry you already.”]

 

Louis slips the ring off of Harry’s finger on the right hand, and puts it on the one on the left hand, murmuring “I do.”

Harry only gets the chance to slip it on the left hand’s finger before Louis is grabbing him and kissing him, making Harry murmur “I do” against his lips, where it belongs.

 

Harry and Louis Tomlinson’s wedding reception is in a white canopy tent off to the side of the wedding aisle. Inside are photos taken over the years- party-favours, a gift area, and tables of food. Instead of getting separate tables for families to eat at, they set up farmer tables, all lined up, creating one giant table, because really, they’re all one, big family.

They have wine in one ice bucket, Italian sodas in another, and jars of strawberry milk in the last one. Also, because the twins insisted, the entire roof of the canopy is filled with balloons, pink and white, in giant bundles.

When they cut the cake, it’s obvious Louis is going to shove his piece into Harry’s face, what isn’t obvious, is Harry pouring his jar of strawberry milk over Louis’ head.

Their first dance, Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap. It starts out as slow swaying, happy grins as they whisper into each other’s neck.

 

(“Tonight’s going to be the first time I ever suck Harry Tomlinson’s dick.”

“Believe it or not, pricks don’t change after getting married.”

“Is that a connotation, Styles?”

“Can’t call me that anymore.”

“To be honest, I was hoping we could name your dick Styles, I don't think I can give up that name just yet.”)

 

Then when the beat picks up, they fall from each other’s chest and grab hands, spinning in circles in a fit of laughter that everyone joins in with.

Niall tries to give the drunk, embarrassing speech, but Perrie takes his glass away and sits on his lap before he can even try to stand up, winking to Louis and Harry in reassurance.

In all, it’s a tearful day full of too many ‘aws’ and too many kisses. They wouldn’t trade it for another moment.

Once they are nearly a year married, their life finally settling back down into a normal, but happy nonetheless routine, the hinted idea of adoption pops up. It starts out when they’re watching a movie, curled up on the couch together stuffing their faces with popcorn mixed with marshmallows and m&m’s. They start talking about ‘what if we had a kid?’ which leads to them talking about how they would parent, which leads to them agreeing that they’d be the best dads ever.

Then when they go shopping together on the weekends, somehow the food aisle turns into the baby aisle, which turns into the bedding aisle, which turns into the toy aisle, which turns to them spending an entire day in one store, decorating a room in conversation, for a child they don't even have.

So suddenly, there are adoption websites on each other’s laptops first thing when they sign in, and it’s hinted in their browser history, and even in their sleepy conversations after sex.

‘If we had a kid, you’d need to learn to keep quiet, Stud.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you could find a way.’

 

Louis rents a car for two days, and next thing they know they’re taking the trip to the closest orphanage. They have to fill out countless numbers of paperwork with the headmaster there, and take interviews together and separately. Afterwards, their information gets sent off to be verified to see if they will be accepted as adoptive parents.

The headmaster seems to think they will be accepted, and though they may have to wait up to three months to even find out for sure if they can adopt, she allows them to look through the children’s files to see if they take any particular liking.

They happily do so, mostly just glancing over the pictures and ages, both waiting to get that _feeling_.

That’s when they find the file of a little girl named Charlie. She'd just turned three, and her parents died in a car accident involving a drunk driver when she was only a little over a year old. There were no relatives that were in condition of taking care of her nearby, so she got put in the system. She was taken in by two different families, but the little girl just didn’t seem to fit with them. So she is back in the orphanages custody, waiting to be adopted.

The little girl is adorable, is the thing. She has these huge blue eyes with long, long lashes, and big pink lips, puffy little cheeks and a dimple in one. Her hair is blonde and curly and short, and she has such an awe look to her that have both Harry and Louis giving each other _that_  look. That look like, ‘ _yeah, she's the ones_.’

It makes the headmaster smile, tears in her eyes at the way Harry and Louis are discussing how they would decorate her room if they could have her, and it has her setting up a meeting a couple weeks later to meet the little girl.

Those weeks flash by and the day before the meeting Harry and Louis get a box from their bakery and fill it full of treats for the girl to have, not exactly sure what she will like, but knowing that she can always share with all of the others.

The drive there is spent in silence, but the subtle squeeze of each other’s hands every once in awhile is the quiet reassurance of something beautiful.

When they get there, the headmaster puts them in one of the meeting rooms, which is small and simple, a big window overlooking the orphanage garden and a small round table with paper and crayons to the side. They sit in the tiny chairs next to each other, holding hands over top the table, knees bouncing nervously as they wait for the little girl to come in.

When Charlie does come in, it is behind the headmaster’s leg, quiet and shy. That is until she sees them, in which she steps out with wide eyes, “You didn’t tell me I was going to get _two_  daddies!”

The headmaster leaves them alone for a bit, letting them chat. Charlie is all big eyes and little curls, wide smile with her front teeth missing. She happily talks to both of them as she colours in a colouring book, little fist wrapping around the entire pink crayon she is using.

It’s easy to tell she has a big heart and a cheeky sense of humour and that all she needs is a good home and a loving family to go to. Harry and Louis both know they can offer that.

They learn that her favourite movie is The Aristocats, she loves celery and peanut butter, and she has never tried strawberry milk before, but ‘ _it must be really good because it comes from pink cows, and pink cows are the prettiest._ ’

They can’t wait to call her their daughter.

_(It's about, finding that person who makes forever feel like it's not nearly long enough.)_

It’s in the afternoon when Harry gets the letter. His husband gets off in less than 10 minutes and they have a rental car waiting so they can go pick up Charlie and bring her to her new home.

He’s simply flipping through each piece of mail, a small yawn escaping his lips, when he sees a return address he normally doesn’t see. It’s from the Union.

The original address, which was his mums, is crossed out and changed to his, and the letter has his name on the top ‘Harry Styles,’ though it has officially been ‘Harry Tomlinson' for a while now.

Harry furrows his eyebrows, carefully opening it.

Inside, is familiar handwriting.

 

_Dear Harry,_

_Please read this entire letter._

_I am writing to you from prison. After I had hurt my boyfriend worse than I ever had before, he went to the police. Everything at the time was so fresh but also very blurry, and from the night it happened to the court date, the details are limited, all I really know, is that I was sentenced to three years in prison, possibly with probation._

_I have been in here for almost a year. A long year full of extensive therapy in anger management and other psychiatric and mental dealings, and I can honestly say, it has been hell for me. Not because I’m locked up, though, but because I have been forced to come to terms with the awful things I’ve done. Not even the other prisoners give me much of a break for some of the things I've confessed to._

_I know an apology won’t fix all the horrible shit I put you through, but I really fucking wish it did. I have done these disgusting things to the only people who ever really cared for me, and knowing that hurts more than anything else. If I could take it all back, God knows I would, but I can’t, and all I really have to offer you is this letter._

_I don’t expect forgiveness, in fact, I don’t expect anything at all. I just want you to know that someone finally put me where I belong, and that I am getting help for what is wrong with me. In my mind, I see this as a reassurance, and I hope you see it that way too. Maybe reassurance that I finally got what I deserved, I’m not really sure. I just know that I am going to be here for a while, that I deserve to be here much longer, and that whilst I am here, I need to at least try to put something back together rather than to break even more._

_I don’t really expect a response from you, but it would be nice to know you at least got this._

_No one knew where you went after you left me. That was probably for the best. I’m really glad you got away._

 

Harry’s heart races, and his fingers shake.

And then he hears Louis’ voice.

“Harry, love, ‘m’home.”

His name has felt like safety every time it came from Louis' lips - and it still does.

“You need to go get your bag.” Harry says, smirk on his lips as Louis makes his way over to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis stops to press a kiss to Harry’s cheeks, “be right down.”

Once Louis is up the stairs, Harry grabs a piece of bakery paper from under the counter and one of the envelopes. He writes, dead in the centre:

 

                                                      _I found my peacefulness. I hope you find yours too._

_-H_

He folds it carefully and shoves it into the envelope, scribbling the Union address over the envelope quickly with Mark's name, and leaving the return address blank. He hears Louis coming back down the stairs, whistling a happy tune - and he smiles, closing up the envelope.

“What’s that, babe?” Louis asks, eyes glancing over it quickly as he walks past the counter and towards the door, bag thrown over his shoulder

“This?” he murmurs, smiling when he notices that Louis is holding the movie _The Aristocats_  in his hand, “it’s nothing.”

And he crumples up the letter from Mark, and throws it away.

**Author's Note:**

> hii everyone.
> 
> so the strawberry milk fic has finally come to an end. honestly, i never even thought it was going to get popular in the first place, so it was a pretty neat surprise how you guys made it so huge, albeit it also terrified me just a bit.
> 
> this fic is a really personal fic to me, personal in a way i never actually intended it to get to, but hey, here we are. i know a lot of you have gone through similar experiences to the ones harry went through, and that this fic was also very personal to you as well. i really do truly understand how hard a lot of these things are to deal with, and i put a lot of myself into this fic, which again, i never really planned on doing.
> 
> and y'know, whether you've been through experiences from harry's side or louis' side or any of the characters side (or even none), i hope you guys all find your little piece of safety in the world. even if you're gonna be a loot-stealing pirate, or a professional bull rider, or like, an accountant, i hope you find that thing that makes you feel okay. even if it's strawberry milk, or your favourite book, or even a person- you deserve that.
> 
> (and a lot of people say you shouldn't find safety in other people, and i disagree completely with that. trusting someone, and being vulnerable with someone, and loving someone is all apart of finding safety in them. it's just your judgement on determining whether that person deserves to be such a huge thing to you.)
> 
> from the very beginning, i only had one person in mind whilst writing this fic. she was the reason i was able to describe (albeit with shitty metaphors) a lot of parts in this fic, because she was the person who made me feel all of those things. this fic was dedicated to emily from the beginning. thanks for being my safety for the bit of time you were.
> 
> that put aside, i would also like to dedicate this entire fic, to my best friend in the entire world, kami. thanks for being the greatest person in the entire world, and thanks for letting me be your bud-bro-pal.  
>   
> find me at:  
> [wankerville](http://wankerville.tumblr.com/)  
> snapchat: wankerville


End file.
